


Burning Heart

by Frenchibi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Iwa is an exasperated firefighter, M/M, Mattsun and Makki are... themselves, Oikawa is bad at cooking, Starring Daichi as Iwa's colleague, There's a little bit of blood and injury in this, There's also a house fire, also minor character death, and Yachi as Oikawa's neighbor, but it's off screen dw, felt like i should mention that, firefighter!au, gg me, this was just supposed to be a crack fic but then it escalated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 11:18:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8576359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frenchibi/pseuds/Frenchibi
Summary: "You guys," Oikawa whines, after the third or fourth awful fire-pun. "You don't understand! He was hot!"
"So you keep saying," Hanamaki says dryly. "But after hearing 'I set my kitchen on fire and there was this crazy hot firefighter', please forgive me for prioritizing the fact that you set your fucking kitchen on fire, rather than your thirst for the guy who put it out."
"Yeah, yeah," Matsukawa says, nodding seriously. "Even if he was as hot as the fire he saved you from."
Or: IwaOi Firefighter!AU because why the heck not.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sekitanki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sekitanki/gifts).



> For Susanna, who directed me towards [this](http://yaboykeiji.tumblr.com/post/119623008724/do-we-already-have-an-au-were-oikawa-tries-to-cook) wonderful piece of very inspirational art that is as 100% serious as this fic was _supposed_ to be-  
>  but then my writing happened and I actually got pretty serious towards the end, whoops *flips desk* why does everything I touch lately turn to drama?  
> This is... possibly a bit different than my usual style because I was experimenting a little, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!
> 
> A quick note here for those of you who have been wondering what the hell I've been doing for the last three weeks - the answer is Suffering™  
> No but in all seriousness, I've had some pretty rough weeks and writing wasn't working. I apologize for not posting anything (and after I'd been uploading twice a week before, too!), and I promise you I haven't forgotten about the prompts in my ask, my ongoing fics or the other projects I promised people. I'm awfully unreliable with schedules and work has been kicking my ass so I don't know if I'll manage to post more stuff as soon as I hope to, but I'm doing my best. I don't want to half-ass these things, and when you get content I want it to be good.
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me, you guys ROCK.

The first time it happens, it's honestly an accident.

Oikawa refuses to label himself a fire hazard; he's way too proud to admit he is absolute crap at cooking, even though everyone who has ever watched him try and make food has expressed a fear for his wellbeing and that of the kitchen in question. It's not even that the results are bad, per se - the stuff he doesn't burn usually turns out okay and edible (sometimes even... almost good?), it's just the process that's exceedingly dangerous for some reason.

Well, not any reason. Oikawa is just very impatient, and he gets distracted easily.

Like, really easily.

~

"I swear, I only left the kitchen for, like, two minutes! I don't know how it happened!"

The firefighter, who had introduced himself as Sawamura, sighs and shakes his head. "You're lucky you have an alarm installed in your kitchen, Oikawa-san."

Oikawa has already opened his mouth to retort when the second firefighter re-emerges from the building, pulling his helmet off his head as he crosses the threshold.

Oikawa stares at him for a moment, completely forgetting what he was about to say because _holy shit_ , this guy is hot. Like, really fucking hot.

"..."

Sawamura follows Oikawa's gaze and waves the other man over, and Oikawa remembers to close his mouth.

"How's it look?" Sawamura asks.

The ridiculously hot firefighter runs a hand through his hair ( _holy shit_ ) and sighs, turning his gaze on Oikawa. Oikawa actually flinches back a little.

"There's no damage to your kitchen, but you might want to get a new pot," he says. Oikawa feels a definite twinge of interest in his gut at the sound of that _voice_.

The firefighter watches him struggle for a moment, raising his eyebrows a little. "Also - you might want to use oil next time."

Sawamura lets out a tiny huff that might have been suppressed laughter, but Oikawa is too preoccupied with blatantly staring at this gorgeous specimen in front of him to give a coherent answer, let alone realize that he has just been made fun of.

"I guess that's it, then - be more careful next time," Sawamura tells him, and he claps the other guy on the back as they leave.

Oikawa stays right where he is, watching them walk away, totally not staring at the firefighter's ass. Not at all. _Holy shit_.

He might have stood there for another ten minutes if his phone hadn't started ringing in his pocket, ripping him from his stupor. He answers it without looking at the screen, eyes still fixed on the guy's retreating frame.

"Oikawa, hey - there's a bunch of firetrucks in your driveway, dude, did you fuck something up?"

Oikawa doesn't answer immediately, not until Hanamaki's voice repeats "Oikawa?" and his tone goes from teasing to something like actual concern.

"Makki," Oikawa says, finding his voice, "I am so fucked."

~

Unsurprisingly, neither Matsukawa nor Hanamaki are helpful at all when they come over later that evening - they're way too busy laughing at what an idiot Oikawa is to help him with his dilemma.

"You guys," Oikawa whines, after the third or fourth awful fire-pun. "You don't understand! He was _hot_!"

"So you keep saying," Hanamaki says dryly. "But after hearing 'I set my kitchen on fire and there was this crazy hot firefighter', please forgive me for prioritizing the fact that you _set your fucking kitchen on fire_ , rather than your thirst for the guy who put it out."

"Yeah, yeah," Matsukawa says, nodding seriously. "Even if he was as hot as the fire he saved you from."

Hanamaki high-fives him, ignoring Oikawa, who grumbles about there not even really being a fire. Matsukawa grins.

"Ah, that's the beauty of being friends with Oikawa Tooru - so much wonderful pun-material."

"But you don't understand," Oikawa says, looking distraught. "He was next-level hot, okay? The should-be-illegal kind of hot. The I-want-to-set-my-kitchen-on-fire-again-so-he'll-come-back kind of hot. Like, I am seriously considering-"

Matsukawa shoots him a look.

"You know you could always just go to the f-"

But Hanamaki slaps his hand over Matsukawa's mouth, cutting him off.

"What Mattsun means to say," Hanamaki says smoothly, "is that that's not a bad idea, but you can't be sure he'll come back. Better wait till next week, at the same time he came here today, to make sure he's on duty."

Oikawa blinks at him for a second - both Hanamaki and Matsukawa hold their breaths - and then he says "OHMYGOD, Makki, you're a GENIUS!" and launches into a torrent of ideas of how to best cause a fire that wouldn't endanger any of the tenants in his building but be severe enough to set off the alarm and warrant the assignment of the fire department.

Hanamaki glances over at Matsukawa, whose wide grin mirrors his own.

"Makki, you're a fucking genius."

"I humbly accept that label, thank you."

"Let's make sure he doesn't hurt himself though."

"Who do you take me for?! Tooru-chan's safety is guaranteed."

~

Judging by Sawamura's less-than-impressed expression, Matsukawa's suggestion to change their plans from another cooking mishap to a staged candle-accident had been a good one - Oikawa isn't at all sure that they could have pulled the former off believably.

"I thought I told you to be careful, Oikawa-san."

Oikawa is making a show of apologizing profusely, bowing deeply and admitting to being a clutz. He can't really bring himself to focus, though, because the incredibly hot firefighter is _standing in his living room._

He's right there, and if Matsukawa's and Hanamaki's expressions when he takes off his helmet are anything to go by, Oikawa's assessment of his attractiveness can't have been that wrong.

The firefighter turns to Oikawa, eyebrows drawn together in a frown that only manages to get Oikawa even more riled up, and Hanamaki mouths _holy shit_ at him behind his back. Oikawa can't answer, though, because the firefighter is suddenly all up in his personal space.

"Honestly, has no one ever taught you that kids shouldn't play with fire?"

This time Oikawa manages to splutter in response (though he still can't quite move past the set of this guy's jaw and the color of his eyes, damn). It's not coherent words, but at least it's better than nothing.

"I- uhm. Sorry, I just- I was-"

"This one's totally on me," Hanamaki pipes up, suddenly standing right beside Oikawa. "He told me to be careful but I wouldn't listen, fireman-san."

The firefighter glares at Hanamaki for a moment, before he says, through gritted teeth: "...it's Iwaizumi."

Oikawa silently thanks the heavens for Makki, but he doesn't get the chance to actually find out what the name sounds like in his own voice because Iwaizumi has already turned and is stalking towards the door, looking kind of annoyed.

"...you're welcome," Hanamaki whispers, flicking Oikawa's arm to snap him out of his thoughts and still managing to sound bright and smug. "C'mon, Oikawa, go for it!"

Oikawa blinks for a moment, unsure what Makki is trying to say - but then he whips around, just as Iwaizumi is reaching for the doorknob.

"Ah- Iwa-"

He takes off after him, almost tripping over his own feet. "Iwa-chan, wait!"

Hanamaki and Matsukawa are both doubled over with their hands over their mouths to keep from laughing, and Iwaizumi turns around to shoot Oikawa a glare that's _icy_.

"...what."

Oikawa catches up to him, panting slightly, and rights himself. He's a tiny bit taller than Iwaizumi, and for some reason he finds that absolutely adorable.

"Just- uhm. Thank you for... for coming to save me," he manages, though his voice sounds squeakier than it's supposed to.

"You weren't in danger," Iwaizumi says, and Oikawa wonders if that frown is permanently stuck on his forehead. "And don't call me that."

Oikawa blinks at him innocently. "I could have been in danger, Iwa-chan. I'm glad you're so reliable!"

Iwaizumi crosses his arms in front of his chest ( _oh shit_ ) and Oikawa finds himself gulping audibly.

"Look - I don't know what you're trying to pull, but people who call us for the fun of it piss me off. D'you think this is a joke? While we're wasting our time here with your little fire experiments, someone else might be in serious danger, and we could be too late to save them. I hope you realize that you're putting everyone else at risk with your games."

The thought sobers Oikawa a little, and he nods, not trusting his voice. Iwaizumi is right, of course.

The firefighter turns away, and Oikawa is left at the door with a couple of unpleasant thoughts.

He goes back inside to watch Iwaizumi leave the building through the window in the kitchen, and climb into the truck with Sawamura. Oikawa bites his lip.

"That went... well," Matsukawa comments from the living room.

"Yeah, not so much. Next time we gotta think of something else," Hanamaki says.

Oikawa walks back into the living room, shaking his head. "He was right. We can't call them for no reason."

~

Oikawa had been resigned that he probably wouldn't meet Iwaizumi again anytime soon - which makes his current predicament all the more strange, really. Oikawa doesn't believe in fate, but this kind of feels like it.

He's glad he had the regional fire department's number saved rather than the general one, but he didn't expect to have the female operator's voice cut off after he stated his name, only to be replaced by the voice that has been haunting his dreams.

"Oikawa, if this is a joke then it's not funny. At all."

"I wouldn't be calling if this wasn't urgent!" Oikawa says indignantly (although he has to admit... this is a favorable turn of events, despite everything.)

"...what."

"Like I said, Iwa-chan, I need your help."

"If this isn't an actual emergency I swear to God I will _hurt you_ , Shittykawa."

"That's rude!"

"Shut up and get to the point. Why are you calling?"

Oikawa sighs and looks down, fingers rubbed raw where they're gripping bark. He's not afraid of heights - but the ground is really, really far away right now and it's making him uneasy.

"I'm... stuck in a tree."

There's silence on the other end, and then-

"You've got to be kidding me."

Oikawa leans back experimentally, and the branch he's sitting on sways.

"Uh, no. Very much not kidding right now. I'm in a tree, and the branch I stepped on to get up here broke. I'm stuck."

Iwaizumi is silent on the other end of the line, so long that Oikawa is almost afraid he lost connection. Then, finally, he says: "How high up are you?"

Oikawa glances down again, then clenches his eyes shut. "Uhm- I don't- I don't know? Pretty high?" Fear is gradually slipping into his voice, lifting the pitch.

"Calm down. Are there any buildings around?"

"Mmh."

"Okay. Can you see at the height of what floor you're at? I need you to tell me, so I'll know what kind of truck to send."

Oh. That makes sense.

Oikawa forces his eyes open, tightening his grip on the branch and on his phone. "Uhm. About... the third window from the bottom? I think?"

Iwaizumi exhales, forcing calm. "Okay. Okay. We're on our way. Try to get as close to the trunk as you can, alright? Move slowly, and as soon as you hang up, keep both hands on the tree at all times. Can you do that?"

"I'm- uhm. I don't know? There's- I don't really have-"

He takes a deep breath, even as Iwaizumi's voice tells him "Stay calm, Oikawa. We'll be right there."

"The cat," Oikawa manages, eyes darting upwards. He can hear the tiny, scared sounds it's making. "I was trying to save the cat."

There's another brief silence, and then: "Okay. Don't move. We'll get both of you down. Can you give me your location?"

Oikawa tells him the street, stuttering a little.

"Alright. I'm hanging up now. Don't fall," Iwaizumi tells him. Oikawa holds his phone to his chest and shivers.

~

Oikawa would have been glad to see Iwaizumi under any circumstance, really, but the added adrenaline of being in danger makes him absolutely ecstatic when he recognizes him inside the approaching firetruck.

A couple of onlookers have gathered beneath the tree, and it's taking all he has to not yell at them or look down too much. Iwaizumi gives him something to focus on - he's climbing out of the passenger seat and into the basket mounted at the end of the truck's ladder as the driver brings it into position. He signals the driver to lift him up, and then turns his attention to Oikawa.

"Hold on," he calls over the low rumbling of the engine and the extending ladder. "I'll be right there."

Oikawa can only nod, feeling the bark dig into his skin as he grips the branch. He's pretty sure his palms are bleeding, but he doesn't dare look down.

Somewhere above him, the cat mewls in distress.

The basket gets closer, and it takes a little adjusting before Iwaizumi is positioned below where Oikawa is sitting.

"It's a couple feet, Oikawa. If you let go now, I'll catch you."

Oikawa shakes his head, suddenly terrified. "W-what if you drop me?"

Iwaizumi echoes the motion. "I won't drop you. Trust me."

Oikawa bites his lip, peering down at him.

"...promise?"

Iwaizumi's face relaxes a little, and he almost smiles. "I promise. Come on." And he holds out his arms.

Oikawa's brain chooses that moment to draw his attention to the fact that Iwaizumi isn't wearing the usual heavy jacket that comes with his gear - he's just wearing the pants, supported by straps over his shoulders, and a plain, long-sleeved black shirt. A shirt that does absolutely nothing to conceal the muscles on his arms and chest. _Damn_.

"Y-you'll catch me for sure?"

"Definitely."

"...promise?" Oikawa asks again, feeling childish and stupid.

But Iwaizumi doesn't bat an eyelash. "I promise," he repeats, with the air of a man who does this every day. Well - he probably does.

Oikawa takes a shaky breath, and straightens up. He immediately feels unstable, gripping the branch harder and driving pricks of pain further into his skin. He winces.

"Try lying down," Iwaizumi tells him, "that way you can slide off and I'll catch you."

Oikawa nods slowly, distracted by the sounds from below, people muttering and the truck's engine purring.

"Hey. Look at me," Iwaizumi tells him. Oikawa tears his eyes off the ground - had he been staring down? - and meets Iwaizumi's gaze. He's completely calm, arms held out resolutely in front of him. "You've got nothing to be afraid of. I'm right here."

Oikawa manages a nod, not trusting his voice, and does as Iwaizumi suggested - he lowers himself down onto his stomach. The branch sways, and he freezes momentarily, struck with terror, then slowly, slowly lowers his legs down to one side, towards Iwaizumi and the basket.

"That's it," Iwaizumi tells him, "almost there. I'm right here, you can let go."

"Promise-"

"I promise I won't drop you."

Oikawa takes another deep breath, a leap of faith, and lets go.

~

There's a tiny moment of gut-wrenching terror as he falls, and Oikawa swears he sees his life flashing before his eyes - and then a pair of strong arms catches him around his torso, and he is gently lowered down until his feet touch a solid surface.

He's so relieved that his knees crumple under him and he threatens to fall, if it weren't for the arms still wrapped around his waist, holding him upright.

"Whoa, hey. You're safe now. It's okay."

Oikawa lets out a shuddering breath and turns, burying his face in Iwaizumi's chest. His arms find their way around the firefighter and he holds on for dear life, shaking from head to toe. He can't even find his voice to thank him or apologize; the only thing he hears is his frantic heartbeat in his ears and Iwaizumi's voice, gently assuring him that everything is okay.

"I've got you, don't worry. It's okay."

Oikawa allows himself to tighten his grip, to be cradled in Iwaizumi's arms for just another moment before he dutifully pulls away, managing to right himself and shakily stand on his own two feet.

"The- my neighbor's cat," he says, and Iwaizumi nods. He's already craning his neck, searching the branches above the one Oikawa had been sitting on, and quickly spotting the tiny, terrified black kitten several feet further up.

"Okay." He reaches for his belt, pulling a small communication device up to his mouth and pushing a button. "I see the cat. Daichi, take us up."

Oikawa shudders as the basket starts to move, pulling back as the truck maneuvers them around Oikawa's branch. He stumbles, and Iwaizumi catches him, wrapping his arm around his waist again to steady him.

"This'll be over soon," he says quietly. "Don't worry."

~

When he's finally lowered to the ground, a trembling kitten in his arms, Oikawa doesn't look up to see Iwaizumi watching him. He curls over the cat on the ground, cradling it close and trying to normalize his breathing. It was just a stupid tree, but he would be lying if he said he wasn't terrified.

He hears voices all around him, but he's not paying attention to what they're saying. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registers Iwaizumi talking to Sawamura, who must have been the one driving the truck. He hears someone approaching him, but doesn't open his eyes.

Suddenly, there's a hand on his shoulder, and Iwaizumi's voice, a lot closer that he would have thought.

"Hey. Are you okay?"

Oikawa forces himself to look up, finding himself face to face with the firefighter crouching in front of him.

"I don't know," he whispers truthfully.

This time, Iwaizumi really does smile, and even through the trembling and the leftover adrenaline, it does something to Oikawa's heart.

"Was pretty great of you, climbing a tree to save a cat."

Oikawa manages a weak sort of smile. "She's Hitoka-chan's- uh, my neighbor's cat," he says quietly. "She'd be devastated if something happened to her. When I saw her up there, I didn't think twice."

Iwaizumi's gaze softens even more, and Oikawa thinks he might melt.

"Ever thought of volunteering with us?" he asks. "You're a good guy, Oikawa."

Oikawa blinks at him, startled, before shaking his head.

"No way," he says. "I'm... pretty useless in dangerous situations, as you can see."

"I think this is a pretty normal reaction, actually."

"...I can't feel my legs," Oikawa confesses. "I couldn't stand if I wanted to."

Iwaizumi watches him for a moment, assessing, before he turns and flops down onto the ground beside him, crossing his legs. Their shoulders brush, and Oikawa suppresses another shudder.

"Well either way, you did a good thing. Even if it was a little... rash."

Oikawa bites his lip. He's suddenly tempted to slump sideways and rest his head against Iwaizumi's shoulder.

Iwaizumi turns his head, catching his gaze before nudging him with his elbow. "And here I thought you were just a pompous prick."

Oikawa huffs. "Hey."

"Yeah, well," Iwaizumi says, "it's not like you left the greatest first impression."

"Hmpf."

Iwaizumi chuckles a little. "You proved me wrong alright."

He gives Oikawa another smile ( _oh shit_ ) and gets to his feet, brushing off his pants as he does so. "Well. If anything else comes up, you know where to call," he says.

"...yeah," Oikawa manages, and fights to push something like a smile into his own expression. "Bye bye, Iwa-chan."

Iwaizumi stops and regards him with a strange look on his face. In the end, he just shakes his head a little. "Bye, Shittykawa."

~

He wakes up because there's smoke filling his lungs, and his own coughing rips him out of his sleep.

He twists, and suddenly he's disoriented because it's _so dark_. With a gasp he tries to right himself, but he doesn't know where he is or what's happening or why it's so dark - and the gasp just leaves him coughing harder as the taste of ashes and smoke fills his mouth.

There's a heavy creak overhead, and then a loud thud - and it's like someone turned on his hearing again because he realizes how _loud_ his surroundings are. There's cracking and popping and the sound of shattering glass, mixed with a rushing sound that's unfamiliar but incredibly ominous.

Then he hears a siren in the distance, coming closer.

He shakes off the grogginess of sleep with a start, sitting up abruptly and coughing again.

He reaches blindly to his right and his hand knocks into his bedside table. He's at home. This is real.

His fingers fumble until he finds his glasses, but they slip out of his grasp and fall to the floor. The sudden urgency he feels and the growing dread in his stomach make him abandon the idea of searching for them, and his mind races, putting the pieces together.

It's really hard to breathe, and his first instinct is to open the window - but there's a tiny voice somewhere in the back of his mind that says _don't_. Don't open the windows. Don't feed the fire.

_Fire._

He's out of bed in an instant, wide awake and alert, eyes straining to take in as much of his room as he possibly can. There's early morning sunlight breaking in through the gaps in the curtains, but it's not doing much against the black smoke that seems to be _everywhere_.

There's smoke, but he can't see fire.

It's hot, though. Really, really hot.

There's another crash, this time in one of the apartments below him, and the shock of it has him tripping forward and falling over something he'd left lying on the floor. He seems to have lost his sense of direction, and he's not sure where he is, or how to tell.

_The fire escape._

He stumbles through the bedroom and into the living room, towards where he thinks the door is, knocking against the couch as he does so and wincing as pain shoots through his bad knee. Now is not the time.

It's down the hall. Out the front door and down the hall.

He misjudges the distance and trips right into the wall when he reaches the front door, and his shoulder screams in protest. He chokes on his sharp intake of breath, and the smoke is making him want to throw up.

He slams his hand down on the sideboard where he knows his keys must be lying, somewhere, and nearly drops them as well when he finds them. His habit of locking the front door at night seems awfully dangerous and stupid now - it's dark and scathing hot and he can't find the keyhole, and his head is spinning because he can't _breathe_.

The heat grows, and his need to breathe and to not melt his skin has him backing away from the door, even though he knows full well that it's his only way out.

He staggers back inside, coughing heavily.

He needs oxygen, _now_ , and the smoke from outside is quickly filling his apartment, darkening it further and streaming into his lungs.

The fire's probably in the hallway already, and he is nothing short of terrified.

He doesn't know how he's still moving, but he can't waste time. The flames will get through his door. If he can't get out-

But he needs to _breathe_.

So he stumbles back into the bedroom, knocking into his desk and getting his hands tangled in his curtains before he manages to force them apart and throw open the window.

A thick wad of smoke wafts out past him instantly, and he gulps in the fresh air, making himself cough all over again.

It takes a few breaths for him to catch himself, and his senses come flooding back through the fear - the commotion around him, the muffled cracking and the rustle of the fire, the smell of burnt wood and plastic and, sickeningly, the smell of burnt flesh.

He tries not to gag and manages to look down at the yard through the haze of smoke and the heat flickering in the air.

There's five fire trucks parked down there, and probably more of them out of sight. Smoke is cutting off most of his view, but between sheer endless plumes of black and gray he sees people on the ground. There are a lot of faces he recognizes - friends, neighbors. He sees Yachi, and is briefly extremely grateful that she got out okay - but the severity of his own predicament soon catches up to him.

He needs to get out of here.

He starts waving his arms, leaning out the window to draw attention to himself. He's just about to yell, not trusting his voice at all, when someone on the ground exclaims loudly and points up at him.

Heads turn in his direction, two firemen among them - and a face he recognizes.

"Shit. Oikawa!"

Iwaizumi looks around, probably searching for his colleagues with the net - but then he stops, and Oikawa realizes.

It's too high to jump. He's on the fifth floor, They wouldn't be able to catch him, from this height, without him crashing right into the ground.

Every second counts.

They've got two larger trucks, but a glance tells him both their ladders are in use. Heat presses into his back, and he knows they won't make it in time.

He can't reach the fire escape.

Oikawa knows it from the expression on Iwaizumi's face - there's no saving him from this.

Before anything else can happen (his mind is still racing, his heart pumping - if this is his death sentence, why does he feel so _alive_?), Iwaizumi starts running.

Dimly, Oikawa can hear someone yelling "it's too late," and "Hajime, stop, you'll be killed-" but Iwaizumi isn't listening. He pulls his helmet over his head as he runs, and Oikawa watches him disappear as he’s swallowed by smoke.

He stands at the window for a moment, frozen, as if none of this is real - as if he could just will himself to wake up, as if this was nothing but a nightmare.

The heat on his skin and the gut-wrenching fear coarsing through him tell him otherwise, and through the panic he manages to move his legs again.

He’s not sure where he’s going, or what Iwaizumi is going to do, but he finds himself moving towards the living room, back into the heat.

The smoke seems thicker there, building a massive wall that feels insurmountable.

Oikawa drops to his knees, hoping for better air - he’s already getting dizzy again.

His head knocks into something - his wardrobe, maybe? - and he fights to stay conscious, fights to keep his breathing shallow and to not start hyperventilating on the smoke.

He still has his keys, clenched tightly in his fist, but they won't do him any good if he can't reach the door.

There's more thuds overhead, and more shattering glass, but now he can barely hear it over the crackling and popping of fire.

His hands brush over the coarse texture of his welcome mat, and his knee knocks over a shoe.

The front door.

He reaches up, frantically searching for the doorknob and fumbling with his keys, and he wonders for a second if this is a good idea - he'd be letting more smoke in, and possibly the fire itself. With a jolt he remembers that he left the window open. He'd only be speeding up the destruction.

He doesn't know what's right, doesn't know how to get out of this alive - all he knows is that he's _terrified_.

And then there's a voice - muffled by fabric and barely discernable through the overall commotion, but familiar nonetheless.

"Oikawa! Oikawa, can you hear me?"

"...Iwa-chan?"

Oikawa coughs on smoke, the scent heavy in his nose and mouth. He tries again, a little louder.

"Iwa-chan?"

There's a loud slam against the outside of his door, and Oikawa flinches in fear.

"Oikawa, you need to get away from the door. Can you do that?"

Oikawa nods, but then he realizes Iwaizumi can't see him, of course, when he yells: "Oikawa! Hey!"

"Y-yes, yes," he manages, coughing again.

"Stand back!"

There's another slam, and another, followed by a sickening crunch as the hinges give way and the door is broken out of its frame.

The heavy wood clatters to the ground, and a gigantic plume of smoke follows immediately after, enveloping Oikawa completely.

It billows past him where he's kneeling on the floor, coughing, and a figure comes into view, shielding its face with its arm.

"Oikawa!"

"...Iwa-chan," Oikawa says feebly. He's sure there's no way his voice could have reached him, and his eyes are feeling so, so heavy-

And suddenly he feels himself being scooped up into someone's arms, the grip firm around his torso and his legs as he is lifted off the ground.

"Oikawa, hey, stay with me okay? I'm getting you out of here."

"Iwa-"

"It's okay, I got you. C'mon."

Oikawa feels the heat of the burning building like physical pressure, but the warmth of the arms around him is different. Reassuring.

"Iwa-chan," he tries again, lifting his hand to curl into the front of Iwaizumi's shirt.

"I'm here, Oikawa, I got you."

And his world goes black.

~

This time, he wakes up to a room that's way too bright.

It's no more welcoming than the darkness was, but there's no coughing, no smoke, no burning heat here.

Oikawa opens his eyes, blinking against the whiteness of his surroundings and letting his vision adjust.

He's in a hospital bed, in a plain room, and he's alone. Wispy white curtains barely keep out the light from outside - the nondescript gray of an overcast day, making it impossible to tell what time it is.

Oikawa sits up gingerly - his joints feel stiff, and the taste of smoke is still heavy on his tongue.

So it was real, then. The fire. The fear.

_Iwaizumi_.

For some reason his heartbeat picks up in worry, and the fact that he probably lost everything he owned is overshadowed by _did he make it out okay?_ and _if I'm here, he must be safe, too, right?_

Oikawa clenches his fists over the covers - then he turns his head and searches his surroundings for the button to call the nurse. He needs to know what's going on.

~

It barely takes two minutes until his door is opened, and Oikawa sits through a general examination with waning patience. He keeps asking questions, and the nurse, a friendly, soft-spoken woman with dark brown hair and eyes, tells him that she doesn't have the answers he's looking for. She tries her best to calm him down, but his panic and anticipation are growing by the second.

When she's finally done with his checkup, she tells him to wait for a moment while she fetches his visitors, and Oikawa swears his heartbeat has never been so loud in his ears. He's trembling a little, and it's taking all this self-control to not jump out of the bed immediately and run to find someone, anyone who can give him more details.

Just when he's about to lose his patience, the door is pushed open.

He's not sure who he was expecting, but it certainly wasn't Iwaizumi.

The firefighter steps inside, and at first Oikawa thinks it's a trick of the light - but when he comes closer, he sees the color on his neck and the side of his face.

"Hey, Oikawa," Iwaizumi says, but Oikawa's stomach has already flipped.

"...is that... a burn?" he asks, voice catching in his throat.

Iwaizumi bites his lip and turns his head away, but Oikawa isn't having any of it. "Hey. Did you- is that because of me?"

"It's nothing," Iwaizumi says.

"Bullshit."

Iwaizumi exhales like he's trying to level himself and turns back to look at Oikawa, allowing him to get a proper look at the left side of his neck and his face. His neck, parts of his jaw and his cheek are covered in angry red blisters, and most of his skin has peeled off. It looks like it _hurts_ , and Oikawa can't help but gasp.

"Did that happen-"

Iwaizumi grimaces, and then he winces at the movement of muscle under injured flesh.

"...when I got you out, yeah."

He holds Oikawa's gaze for a moment before looking away, a hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck.

"How're you feeli-"

"I'm sorry."

Iwaizumi looks up, surprised, and then a complicated expression takes over his face.

"It's not your fault. I knew the risks when I went back inside a building we'd deemed unsafe."

Oikawa focuses on his hands, kneading them together in his lap.

"When- when you came back for me, I heard them yelling at you."

Iwaizumi sighs. "Well, yeah. You see... you don't... you risk your life, as a firefighter, but you don't throw it away. It was more likely that I'd die than make it out alive, let alone be able to... save you."

Oikawa's hands clench together so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

"But you did. And I'm... I'm not even hurt."

Iwaizumi gives him a small, tired smile. "That's close to a miracle, really. We were... really lucky."

He's still standing in the middle of the room, halfway between Oikawa's bed and the door, like he can't seem to decide what to do with himself.

"Were there..." Oikawa swallows. "...casualties?"

Iwaizumi hesitates.

"...yes," he tells him finally, and even though Oikawa had expected as much, hearing it confirmed now is like a blow to his chest.

"How many?"

"Oikawa, maybe now's not-"

"How many."

Oikawa's gaze hardens and he looks back up at him.

"...three," Iwaizumi says finally. "On the top floor."

One above his own.

There would have been four, if it weren't for Iwaizumi.

"Do you... do you know what caused the fire?" Oikawa asks quietly. "And... is anything left of the house?"

Iwaizumi steps a little closer, fingers ghosting over the footboard of the bed.

"Last I heard, we think it was a gas leak. And the house... large parts of it are definitely lost. I don't... know all the details though, I've been here as long as you have."

Oikawa blinks, pushing away the thoughts of his apartment, all his possessions, the things he's lost. He'll deal with them once all this is over, and once he manages to think clearly again. "Ah. How long is that, actually?"

"'bout half a day," Iwaizumi says. "You've... they're calling your friends now to let them know that you've woken up. Your parents too, I think."

He withdraws his hand, standing and looking down at Oikawa like he's got something else to say but he's not sure how to day it.

In the end, he just sighs and shakes his head a little.

"I'm glad you're okay," he says. "Just... just wanted to make sure of that."

And he's retreating, turning away and walking towards the door.

"I'm... sorry about your scar," Oikawa says, somehow unable to look at him. "You... you wouldn't have that now if you'd just abandoned me, like they told you to. And now you're-"

"I'd do it again."

Oikawa looks up, startled.

Iwaizumi is standing with his back to him, hand clenched around the doorknob, but he's not moving.

"...what?" Oikawa asks blankly.

"...I'd do it again," Iwaizumi says, and he slowly turns back to face him.

"I don't care about the stupid scar. You got out alive, and that makes it worth it."

Oikawa feels his heart clench at those words, both in sympathy and in fierce gratitude.

"...but- I'm nothing to you. You had no reason to risk your life to save mine, even if that's your job. You said it yourself, you weren't supposed to run in and save me."

Iwaizumi gives him a long look. He lets go of the doorknob and takes a few steps back into the room, towards Oikawa.

"...but I did," he says. "And I'd do it again."

Oikawa shakes his head in disbelief. "...why?"

Iwaizumi reaches the bed and slowly sits down on the side of Oikawa's mattress, looking down at his hands.

"I'm... not sure," he says. "By all accounts it makes no sense. You're an annoying kid, after all."

His eyes flick up briefly to meet Oikawa's, and Oikawa scoffs at him.

"We're the same age, Iwa-chan."

Iwaizumi sighs, raising his head to hold his gaze this time.

"...I don't know, okay? I... I wasn't gonna go in again - it was a suicide mission and I knew it. But I heard you, and- and I couldn't let you die. I had to do something."

Oikawa shakes his head slowly. "...I shouldn't matter to you. No more than any other life you manage to save or you don't. And yet... you're here. And you saved me when everyone else thought I was a goner. Hell, _I_ thought I was a goner. But you came back."

Iwaizumi watches him, fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt in his lap.

"...yeah, I did," he says quietly. "And... you do. Matter, I mean."

"What, to you?"

Iwaizumi bites his lip.

"Yeah, apparently."

Oikawa watches his face closely - watches resignation and confusion bleed into something like hope, and a strange sense of calm. He feels a grin sliding across his own face, and an odd kind of bubbly excitement building in his chest.

"...so does that mean I get the hot fireman's number?" he asks, managing to sound just as cheeky as he'd envisioned.

Iwaizumi looks up at him, startled-

And then he laughs, short and heavy, a powerful burst of feeling. The sound thrills Oikawa to the core.

"You almost died, I'm permanently disfigured, and all you care about is my fucking number?"

Oikawa bites his lip in an attempt to keep from smiling, but he knows his eyes are giving him away.

"...maybe? I mean... something good's gotta come of this, right?"

Iwaizumi lets out an incredulous sound, shaking his head at him.

"You're unbelievable."

Oikawa's grin becomes so wide it's almost unbearable.

"And I _matter_ to you, Iwa-chan. You said it yourself!"

"Did I?"

"You totally did."

"Weird. You'd think I'd remember saying something like that."

Oikawa huffs. "You're so mean, Iwa-ch-"

But he's cut off by a pair of lips against his own, soft but determined.

It's brief, over before either of them can think too much about it, and when he pulls away, Oikawa lets his eyes flutter open to stare at Iwaizumi's face, only inches from his own.

"Wow, Iwa-chan, so forward! Usually you'd take me on a date firs-"

"Already did that," Iwaizumi says with a grin, and leans forward to peck at Oikawa's lips a second time. "I saved your life. That's a pretty great first date, if I do say so myself."

Oikawa considers him for a moment, allowing his gaze to linger on Iwaizumi's eyes, his jawline, his lips.

"Eh," he says finally, dragging his eyes back up to meet Iwaizumi's and cupping the uninjured side of his face with his hand. "It was a little too hot for my taste."

Iwaizumi snorts, and there's a brief moment of silence - then they're both laughing again.

"How bout you plan something better for the next date, yeah?"

"Oh, don't worry. I'll have you know that I've got an extensive reputation-"

But he's cut off by a voice from the door, familiar and drawling. "Are we talking about Oikawa's disappointing sex life again?"

"Oh," a second voice exclaims - they're really joined at the hip, aren't they - "remember when we were at that bar downtown, the fancy one, and Oikawa got-"

"OH MY GOD," Oikawa says loudly, drowning out Hanamaki and Matsukawa's cackling, "who even invited you two?!"

Hanamaki gasps, and Matsukawa claps a hand to his chest.

"I cannot believe."

"We come all this way-"

"-out of _love_ and _concern_ for our friend-"

"-and he has the nerve to fucking _sass_ us?!"

"Unbelievable."

" _Deplorable_."

Iwaizumi watches the exchange with an amused smirk on his face, and Oikawa feels himself suddenly blushing furiously, which really isn't helping the situation.

"I hate you guys."

Hanamaki raises his eyebrows. "Oi, be careful who you insult. We're the people you'll be staying with for the forseeable future, you know?"

Oikawa's eyes widen, and his head snaps around so he can stare at Iwaizumi.

"Iwa-chan, save me."

"What, from your caring friends?"

"They're _devils_ -"

"Wow, rude."

"You know what, Mattsun? We should totally keep the milk bread we bought him for ourselves. He doesn't deserve it."

Oikawa whips around again so fast he nearly knocks Iwaizumi off the side of the bed.

"I take that back. I love you guys."

Matsukawa and Hanamaki beam down at him with identically smug expressions, and Iwaizumi laughs.

"Ooh, I like him."

"Same."

They exchange a glance, then Hanamaki says in a mock-serious voice: "We are very proud to pronounce you a member of The Squad."

Oikawa gapes at them. "What, just like that?! It took me _months_ to earn that!"

Matsukawa clicks his tongue. "That's because you're annoying and obnoxious."

" _Mattsun!_ "

"Aw, it's okay," Hanamaki says. "We love you anyway - and _Iwa-chan_ here made sure you're still with us. I think that's enough reason to let him in."

"Agreed."

"Regrettably, your opinion on this matter has been overruled, Tooru-chan."

"Besides - if you're planning to hit that, you might want him around more, no?"

At this, Oikawa blushes again, but he can't bring himself to care when Iwaizumi is laughing like that, his entire face easing out of his default scowl and into an expression that makes him look younger, more carefree - and about a thousand times more attractive than he already is.

"Oh," Oikawa says tonelessly. Matsukawa and Hanamaki exchange knowing glances.

"Don't worry, dearie, we've got you covered."

"Best wingmen in history."

Oikawa squawks indignantly. "Actually, you were interrupting-"

"Wah-wah," Hanamaki says with a shrug, cutting him off. "So what, are you getting out of here soon?"

Oikawa closes his mouth and tears his eyes away from Iwaizumi. "Preferably right now. Think you can distract the nurses?"

There's another brief exchange of glances, then Matsukawa scoffs. "You're underestimating us. We can buy you 15 minutes."

"More than enough," Oikawa says with a grin. "You guys really are the best."

He turns to beam at Iwaizumi, who is still chuckling and shaking his head in slight disbelief.

"Think you can save me again, Iwa-chan?"

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes.

"Anytime, Shittykawa."

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to CJ, who bugged her firefighter friends with my questions and who assured me that "footboard" is actually a word that exists in the English language.
> 
> As always, find me on [tumblr](http://frenchibi.tumblr.com) and come have a chat with me! (Or, you know. Slap an idea or two in my face, I can always use the inspiration :D)


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